


Passive (A Perfect Circle)

by Clitler



Series: Destiel Playlist [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark Dean Winchester, Dean's Demon Powers, Demon Dean Winchester, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Referenced Sastiel, Referenced Underage Mutual Masturbation, Referenced Wincestiel, References to hell, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Coercion is also noncon, Submissive Castiel, Underage is by definition noncon, oh boy, referenced weecest, so many
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13204644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clitler/pseuds/Clitler
Summary: When the cure doesn't work on Demon Dean, Sam enlists Castiel's help, but it doesn't go quite as planned.





	Passive (A Perfect Circle)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know I might lose some of you with this, but it's been bothering me since the episode first aired.  
> All I can say is PLEASE HEED THE TAGS and DON'T COME BITCHING TO ME IF YOU GET YOUR DELICATE SENSIBILITIES HURT.  
> Sexual violence is one of the most widely-used forms of torture, yet it's never referenced in the show.  
> I honestly think a real demon would be a lot crueler and more manipulative than what's been on the show.  
> And yeah, I know, it's not on a paid cable network, but what if it was?

Passive (A Perfect Circle)

            Funny that it was Crowley he had to thank for this little intervention, considering the King of Hell thought they were bffs.  Funny that it was Sam who thought he could ‘save’ Dean, considering he hadn’t been able to save him from Hell.  Funny that Castiel didn’t realize Dean could hear his every thought, considering how much he used to fantasize about the very things Castiel was thinking.

 

            The looks his brother and the angel were exchanging, though, now that Dean did not find a bit amusing.  Narrowing his eyes, Dean sunk into Sam’s admittedly chaotic thoughts, like slipping into a warm bath after throwing a toaster in.  There was a lot of extraneous chick-flick bullshit that Dean had to sift through to get to the meat, lot of Daddy issues mixed with a low, sick longing to be close to Dean, lot of _feelings_ about their shared dysfunction, lot of angst about his incestuous tendencies. Dean sighed mentally, it was all so pedestrian.  Even fangirls who didn’t know they were real people had guessed at the fucked-up undercurrent of their relationship and, anyway, it wasn’t anything Dean didn’t already know.  Flipping past memories of guilt-riddled jerk off sessions in seedy motel rooms with his 16-year-old brother and the remorse of picturing Dean spread out under him every time he fucked sweet little Jessica, Dean plied Sam’s mind for anything concerning their angel.  Ah, there it was!  Dean plucked the single brightest image of Castiel out of the swirling wash of Sam’s subconscious and held it up for inspection.  It tasted like seven kinds of jealousy but looked like the hottest porn Dean could imagine.  God, this kid was such a freak.  Dean smiled up at his baby brother knowingly, cutting his eyes to Castiel, then back to Sam before winking.  Sam flushed but kept his kicked-puppy look plastered firmly in place.  Dean’s mouth turned down in a moue of disapproval and tutted at his brother.  Sam finally looked away in shame.  Dean grinned triumphantly.  He really did love their ability to communicate this way, it was so much more satisfying than words.

 

            Sam looked over at Castiel, who was currently regarding Dean with that tilted-head concerned-friend front.  Dean didn’t know who the angel thought he was fooling, oh yeah: everyone.  Dean sighed expansively, rolling his shoulders as if his bindings were causing him discomfort.  Compared to some of the positions he’d gotten himself into _voluntarily_ in the last little while, this was amateur hour.  The only reason he was still sitting here was because he’d decided breaking his brother and an angel of the Lord would be slightly more fun than flaying Crowley’s blighted soul, for the moment, anyway.  Time to get this show on road.

 

            “Sammy,” he crooned, “why don’t you untie me now, huh?  We can split him, ya know?  Just like you want.  Or maybe you two can split me?” Dean pursed his lips and looked up in contemplation, “Personally, I always thought of you as a bottom, but if you want to ease into that-“ Sam splashed him with holy water.  Dean snapped and roared, smoke curling off his face where the water landed.  Fuck, that still stung a little.

 

            When Dean looked back up, Sam was breathing heavy, eyes wet and cheeks flushed, “What’s a matter, baby boy?  Did you think he didn’t know?” Sam stiffened and glanced at Castiel out of the corner of his eye.  To Castiel’s credit, leaning against the only table in the room and keeping his arms crossed was doing a pretty effective job of helping him maintain his poker face.  “Oh, boy, Sammy!  You really thought it was a secret!  Well, that’s just,” Dean tipped his head, smiling up at Sam’s stunned face, “adorable.”

 

            Sam walked stiltedly over to Castiel, bending over to whisper in his ear, like Dean’s hyperactive Demon senses wouldn’t enable him to hear every hissed syllable.  “I don’t know why he’s lying, Cas, but he is.” Castiel’s head snapped up, his eyes locking with Dean’s.  They both knew that was bullshit, both parts of Sam’s statement.

 

            “Come on, Sammy,” Dean whined, switching tracks like a hot knife slipping into butter, “I’m horny! Ya got me all tied up and exhausted, running around this shit hole all night, chasing your fine ass.  Come on, just give me a little somethin’,” Dean spread his legs as far as he was able without breaking free, scooting his ass forward a few precious inches and reveling in the way both sets of eyes flicked to his dick as it strained against the denim of his jeans before slanting away, “Kiss him, show him what I taught you all those years ago.”

 

            It was Castiel who brought the holy water this time, letting it trickle out of the flask to splatter across the bridge of Dean’s nose, flowing into his mouth as he opened it to growl, making him choke and sputter, spitting it out and pretending to struggle for breath.  “But ya know what’s really fucked up, Sammy?” Dean looked up at Castiel, tilting his head mockingly, “He felt _sorry_ for us when he was putting me back together after Hell.  I believe his exact thought was ‘Oh Father, they would be so _beautiful_ together, if only they would allow themselves to love.’”

 

            Castiel looked sadly over at Sam, the angelic version of kicked-puppy eyes, “Sam, I-“

 

            Sam cut him off with a sharp motion of his hand.  He stalked over to the table, grabbing a syringe of sanctified blood and looming over a smiling Dean, who husked, “Yeah, baby boy, give it to me good,” before stabbing the needle into Dean’s arm, right below The Mark, and depressing the plunger.  Sam yanked the needle out and backed up as Dean moaned pornographically and writhed in the chair, straining against his binding.  Dean finally let his head fall back, licking his lips and glancing at Castiel on his right.  He winked at the angel before righting his head to look lasciviously at Sam, who glared back at Dean but hadn’t seemed to notice the half chub pushing against the zipper of his jeans.  Dean noticed.  Dean always noticed.

 

            Dean chuckled darkly and rutted up into the air, wiggling his ass against the wooden seat, “Fuck, Sammy, getting’ me so hard with all this rough stuff,” Dean looked pointedly at Sam’s crotch, “Getting’ you hard, too.” Sam looked down at himself but quickly looked back up at Dean, eyes gone wild and tight around the corners.  “Untie me, little brother.  We can enjoy a piece of angel food cake together.”  Sam dropped the syringe on the table when Castiel came around and grabbed his arm, ushering him out of the room.

 

            Dean heard their retreating footsteps as Castiel shuffled Sam down the corridor after pulling the door closed behind them.  They didn’t go too far, probably because Sam’s legs buckled, and he slid down the wall of the hallway, voice all watery with unshed tears.  Well, maybe a few tears were shed.

 

            “ _What the Hell do we do, Cas?_ ”

 

            “ _Sam, I think I should do the rest of the procedure myself._ ”

 

            “ _Wait, no, you can’t…You don’t_ actually _believe what he’s saying, do you?”_ Pause.  “ _Cas, come on, man, he’s a_ demon _!  He’s lying!  You gotta know that!_ ”

 

            “ _He…he isn’t, um, he isn’t lying about my seeing into his mind after Hell-_ “

 

            “ _Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,_ ” Sam’s voice was muffled for that part, his face in his hands, “ _we were just kids, Cas!  It didn’t_ mean _anything! I mean, you know how we were raised! I didn’t have anyone else! Just Dean.  Of course things got a little jumbled in my head for a while, it was…it was just confused puberty shit!_ ”

 

            “ _And after?_ ” Silence. “ _And now?_ ” More silence. “ _Look, Sam,_ ” Castiel sighed, “ _We can’t cure him if we keep going at this with deceit in our hearts.  We have to do this with the purest love and that means truth, in all things._ ”

            “ _I…Cas, I…please don’t make me,_ ” Sam choked on a hard sob.  That was easier than Dean expected.

            “Come on, guys! Are you done blowin’ each other yet?  I’m losin’ my wood, here!” Dean called.

            More shuffling sounds and Castiel opened the heavy iron door.  “Oh, angel, are we doing one-on-one right now?” Dean pouted prettily, “I was really hopin’ for some group action.  You know, I haven’t gotten properly laid since I fucked Crowley into the mattress at that ungodly B and B in Schenectady.  Now, _that_ place was a torture dungeon. I mean, who uses that much chintz in this day and age, ya know?  Fuckin’ surprised I could even get it up, to be honest.”

 

            Castiel remained silent but his mind was awash in images of Dean pounding Crowley, the King of Hell writhing beneath him, mewling and begging for it like a whore on a disheveled bed.  “Yup, that was pretty much it.  ‘Cept he was on his stomach, not all fours.  Well, at the end he was on his stomach.  After he came the third time, dry, I might add, I kept fucking him until he was begging me to,” Crowley’s voice came out of Dean’s throat, strained and rough from screaming for hours, “’bloody stop! Dean! I said stop! **_Please_**!!!!’” Dean watched Castiel’s face morph into undiluted disgust. “Meh, not my finest hour, I’ll admit, but I’d already run through three women and he didn’t believe I still had anything left.”

 

            “I don’t believe you,” Castiel said, voice surprisingly even.

 

            “Doesn’t matter, it was just practice, anyway.  You and Sammy are the Big Show,” Dean grinned adoringly up at him, “I’ve been getting’ my love muscle in shape for you two rascals.  Damn, it’s gonna be the ride of a lifetime, baby, I just know it!”

 

            “Why isn’t the sanctified blood working on you?” Castiel asked, circling around behind Dean.

 

            “It did work on me, angel,” Dean conceded.  It couldn’t hurt to tell them, at this point.  It wasn’t like they could do anything to stop what was coming, not a depowered angel cut off from his Heavenly battery pack and a crumbling wanna-be brother fucker with a busted arm. “As far as it _can_ work.  Which is to say, not very fucking much, little sting in the ol’ soul, little tug to the remnants of my conscience, nothing I can’t fix.  Nothing I haven’t already fixed,” Dean said lowly, looking up at Castiel from under his lashes as the angel came back into view.

 

            “So, you are corrupting the blood as we inject it?” Dean nodded, capturing a corner of his bottom lip in his teeth.  Castiel contemplated this new tidbit of information, stealing glances at Dean as he squirmed in the chair, the outline of his hard dick pushing insistently toward Castiel.  “How long?” Castiel mused.

 

            “About eight inches.  And I’m totally not exaggerating,” Castiel threw a Sam-worthy bitch face at Dean, who only smiled.  “God, I can’t wait until you’re on your knees looking at me like that.  Bad Ass Mother Fucker is _such_ a hot look for you, angel.” Castiel rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the flush of arousal that crept up the back of his neck.  Dean noticed it, though.  He always noticed. 

 

            Dean sighed dramatically at Castiel’s continued silence, “Fine.” This was getting tedious anyway. “I’ll give you to the count of three.” Dean pulled his right hand out of the restraint easily, the warded leather strap ripping like tissue paper.

 

            “What if I offer myself up to you willingly?  Will you take me away from here and leave Sam alone?” Castiel asked seriously, seemingly unperturbed by Dean’s impending freedom.

 

            Dean considered the deal sincerely, weighing his options as he looked the angel up and down, “Suppose I could give Sammy a _temporary_ stay.  Couple of hours anyway.  You’ve been teasing me for a long damn time.  I wouldn’t mind a little time to break you in before you become the lunchmeat in a Winchester sandwich,” Castiel’s shoulders sagged briefly before stiffening back up, “But we aren’t going anywhere, angel.  Sammy gets to hear every little cry and scream that falls from your generous lips.  I doubt he’ll be able to stay away for long.” Dean pulled his left wrist out of its strap and popped the button on his jeans.  He slid his zipper down slowly, watching as Castiel’s eyes dilated.  Dean smirked to know how little Grace Castiel had access to, that he couldn’t control his vessel even that little bit.  “Now, I’d like to start with an oldie but a goodie.  You’re gonna lose the Holy Tax Accountant get up, then you’re gonna come over here and suck my dick.”  Dean freed his cock, giving it a few loose strokes, sighing softly.  Castiel watched, lips slightly parted and wet now as he licked them subconsciously.

 

            Castiel hoped Sam _had_ been listening, hoped he knew that Castiel was trying to give him some time to figure out another way to cure Dean, the man whose soul had shone brighter than the Sun when Castiel first laid eyes on it in the bowels of Hell, the demon whose soul now shone with a light just as bright, but ruddy now, where it had once been a pure, white light.

 

            “Come on, angel, deal’s a deal,” Dean goaded.  Castiel shed his trench coat, laying it across the table behind him.  Next came the suit jacket, followed by the sensible shoes, then he loosened his tie.  “Ah ah ah, leave the tie on,” Dean instructed, sliding further down in his seat, hand teasing his balls out of his boxers as he watched Castiel strip.  Castiel unbuttoned his white shirt with only slightly shaking hands, draping it over his coat and pulling his undershirt off, discarding it in the same fashion.  He unbuckled his belt and tried to remind himself that this was still the Righteous Man in front of him.  In a very fundamental way, the demon in this room was still _Dean_ , his precious Dean, for whom he had Fallen, rebelled against Heaven, and slaughtered his own brethren to keep safe.  This was and always would be the man he loved most in all of Creation.  Dean threw his head back with a bark of sharp laughter, “Oh fuck, angel! Oh, that’s just…ha, ha, ha, that’s _darling_!  Man, you fucking slay me!”  Castiel glared back at him as he dropped his pants and stood in his billowy, white boxers, black dress socks, and ubiquitous blue tie.  Dean scowled at him, “Lose the fucking Grandpa socks and underwear, man.  Jimmy fucking Novak, what a fucking _square_!”  Castiel did as he was told, hopping from foot to foot to shed the socks, pushing the boxers down reluctantly.  He couldn’t stop the blush that spread down his chest under Dean’s calculating gaze.

 

            “Oh ho! And he acted like he was martyring himself for the cause! Nice boner, angel!  That for me or you still ‘only thinking of Sam’?” Dean sent Castiel one of his favorite memories, Sam’s young face the last time they’d indulged in one of their little two-man circle jerks, cheeks flushed a deep pink, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, lips wet with his and Dean’s saliva.  The very picture of erotic 17-year-old bliss.  Castiel’s breath hitched and his cock twitched hard enough to slap against his stomach wetly.  “I know,” Dean purred, “He was such a twink, wasn’t he?  I honestly don’t know how I kept my hands off him all those years.  Not that it’s much better now, just different.  Now, he’s all Colby Keller, super-sized porn star, giant cock and all.” Dean twitched his finger, beckoning Castiel to him, “We’re gonna wreck your ass, baby.”  Castiel found himself suddenly standing between Dean’s knees, unable to look away from his eyes, their grass-green color turned muddy moss in the yellow light overhead.

 

            Castiel sunk slowly to his knees.  He forgot why he’d been fighting this as he watched Dean’s eyes flick to fathomless black.  All he’d ever wanted was to serve.  When he realized his Father had abandoned them all, he’d just handed that loyalty off to the Winchesters.  Did it really matter whether they were humans or demons?  The only thing that mattered was giving himself, all of himself over to their service.  “That’s right, angel.  That’s good.  I knew you always wanted to be our chew toy,” Dean purred as Castiel ran his palms up the demon’s thighs.  Castiel’s mouth watered watching Dean’s thick cock lurch at his touch, a shining bead of precum forming at the slit.  “Lick it off, baby,” Dean whispered, his dark gaze siphoning off what little resistance Castiel had left.  He leant forward, bracing on Dean’s hard thighs, and ran his tongue over the head of his dick, lapping up the moisture there. Dean hissed sharply and jerked back minutely as a wisp of smoke curled up from the contact.  Dean’s come felt like a drop of acid on his tongue, a burn like drinking hot coffee too soon.  “Ah, fuck…don’t worry, angel…hmmm, yeah, there…s’ok now, all evened out.” The sting of demonic power diffused quickly across Castiel’s tongue, spreading and dissipating.  Dean reached a hand out to grip the hair at the top of Castiel’s head, “Come on, angel, don’t be a cock tease.” He pulled Castiel’s head down and the former Garrison Commander willingly opened his mouth, taking the spongy head of Dean’s cock between his lips.  The union of Heavenly flesh with Hell’s own still sent a tingle through Castiel’s mouth, but it only fueled the lust he had felt for all these years and he sunk greedily down the hot, hard cock of his true love, moaning at the sheer _rightness_ of it all.

 

            Dean groaned and shoved forward, hand mercilessly holding Castiel’s head down, thrusting his dick straight down the angel’s throat.  Castiel swallowed over and over, almost in a panic, but without a gag reflex and no real need to breath, he soon settled, letting his jaw go lax a little.  Dean took that as the permission it was and grabbed Castiel by his ears, tilting his head up a bit, and proceeded to fuck his angel’s throat with unrelenting fervor.

 

            “Fuck, yeah, angel…take it so good…you’re a fucking natural, baby…more tongue…ah…ah…ah…yeah…fuck…don’t be afraid to use some teeth…like that…perfect…so hot, angel…fuck, you’re like a furnace…swallow it, yeah…fuck yes…I knew you’d love this…mmmm…been thinkin’ bout this so long, baby…can’t even choke you on it…but I’m sure gonna try…fuck yeah…shit…whew…ungh…ungh…mmmm…take it all…oh, angel…gonna fuck you every way…I’ve always dreamed of…yeah…can’t wait to watch Sammy do this…fuck, gonna be so sweet to us…aren’t ya, angel?” Dean’s demonic hearing didn’t miss the sound of slick flesh on flesh outside the closed door.  He grinned knowing Sam was out there fucking his own fist and imagining it was Castiel’s mouth around him.

 

            Dean leaned down, whispering to Castiel, “Sammy’s enjoying it already…you gonna make me come down that tight throat so he can hear it, angel?  Wanna make me scream?”  Castiel groaned and came explosively, cock spasming out his release as his eyes rolled up in his head.  “Did you…did you just come, angel? Fuck yes you did…” Dean grunted as he gripped both sides of Castiel’s head and pummeled his throat, an otherworldly growl boiling up from deep within his chest, blowing out his mouth as a reverberating growl that shook every loose object in the room.  Sam’s little blood cooler rattled off the table as it danced, following the path of empty syringes, Castiel’s clothes falling after it with a soft thwump. The only other chair in the room flew back, striking the wall and bending slightly out of true as Dean shot boiling hot come down an angel’s throat.  Dean shook and screamed with the culmination of years of pent up lust and self-loathing, holding Castiel’s head to his groin as he came and came and came, a seemingly never-ending stream of cataclysmic pleasure pulled from the depths of his very soul.  For the first time since he turned, Dean lost all sense of place and self, awash in unhindered joy.

 

            When he finally opened his eyes, he looked down at Castiel, still suckling on his softening dick, his blue eyes swimming in tears, his cheeks wet with ones already cried.  “Oh, angel,” Dean murmured, “This is going to be _so_ much fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sick fuck.  
> I know this.  
> I'm not done yet.


End file.
